


A Continuation

by 14winters



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:38:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8551927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/14winters/pseuds/14winters
Summary: Joan and Sherlock continue their conversation after Joan's line "So you show up" in S05E04.





	

**Author's Note:**

> (because we all want it and I’m starving for Joan-feels and Joanlock-feels over here; also this exists in my inner Elementary AU where Joan never sleeps with Mycroft - yeah you had to know that. Call it Angela’s alternate universe where Everyone Gets the Emotional Attention They Deserve) 
> 
> This was inspired by [margoleon](https://margoleon.tumblr.com)'s tags on [this tumblr post](https://margoleon.tumblr.com/post/152605237519/katasstrophee-so-you-show-up#notes) concerning the heart-to-heart (albeit one-sided) scene in the 100th episode. I strongly felt Sherlock and Joan deserved to get more of their thoughts out in this scene. Previously posted on tumblr. Tiny tiny implied Joanlock because I'm shipper trash I'm sorry (and Gloria wanted Joan to reach out to touch him and I am nothing if not an accommodating fellow shipper).

She turned to look at him. He was still staring at their wall of crazy as if it would reveal something to him that she hadn’t. She looked down for a moment, thinking more over his words.

“I know you’re afraid of others disrupting our partnership. I’ve seen it before, I understand,” she said, letting a calmness enter her voice that she hadn’t felt before. The look on his face was what did it. He looked far too young, like he always did when he let his fear rise to the surface. She never knew exactly how best to calm it down. Now she felt she needed to delve deeper.

He turned to look at her, and his eyes were as young as his expression. In contrast she felt ancient. At times she felt their roles had flipped too—she the instructor and he the student. But hadn’t it always been that way?

“Do you?” he asked, his tone missing the mockery she was so used to. She almost smiled.

“Yes, Sherlock. We have something special, and I know it’s more than the work we do. It’s what we do for each other. But you can’t always look at our partnership as existing inside a vacuum. That’s not how the world works. It will never work that way. We had to learn that before. Remember?” She watched for the recognition, the subtle shift of the lines in his face as he did remember. When they had been apart for eight months. Eight months when she didn’t know what she should feel about him anymore, except the never-ending pain and anger that stayed beneath her heart all that time. Part of her had long known he’d never forget it, never forget the pain that had surfaced between them after his return from London. Something like that never left a relationship, no matter the nature of it.

And he felt that pain from her now, but it was changed. They looked at each other for a long moment, each reading the other.

“I just don’t think we should continue to exist it that vacuum, Sherlock. If this award is the beginning of resentment, you know we’ll face it together. We’ve learned to face things together,” she said, her voice softening on the last words. She had to look away from him. His stare was too much in these moments. It was the main reason she didn’t like having these conversations with him—he forced too much out of her without even saying anything.

“You are comparing my fears to what happened to us after my relapse,” he said, stating a fact. She tilted her head, still not turning to look at him, but feeling a few muscles in her shoulders and back relax. She heard a new calm entering his voice, and it eased her own worry in turn.

“Well, they are comparable,” she offered, fingering the hem of her red cardigan, a small part of her mind wondering at the space between them. Sometimes that space was natural, easy. Now it felt like something rising, a new barrier to deal with.

She took a deep breath. “Then, we were being broken off from the NYPD. You were willing to ‘bestow glory’ on me to get me back in their good graces. But now the opposite is happening, and it includes you, and I know that’s not what you want. But Sherlock…” She turned to look at him. He was turned toward her, an odd expression on his face. He was confused, which she’d seen before, but there was something else there. A realization perhaps.

“Being part of the NYPD, it hasn’t always been good for us. Maybe this recognition, this ceremony, it might do the opposite of breeding resentment, at least for some. You have to give some things a chance.” His forehead was creased with his heavy thoughts, whatever they were, and she wasn’t sure if he wanted to say anything or not. She waited, turning to look at their wall of crazy, seeing how the sun’s rays had changed with the passing of time.

“I think I understand, Watson. You believe this recognition could lead to some good for us, in the department. You may be right. But you realize I don’t intend to make it a habit to accept accolades,” he finished brusquely, and out of the corner of her eye she saw his hands fold themselves precisely in his lap, his chin jutting forward slightly. She let a half smile creep onto her lips.

“I know, Sherlock. But just this once, I appreciate you seeing things my way,” she said, her smile obvious in her voice. He turned to look at her, the perplexity still lingering around his eyes, though he said nothing else. She shifted, putting both feet on the ground and preparing to rise. But before she did, she laid a hand on his clasped ones, looking only briefly into his eyes before glancing away. “And I feel the same. About the work.”

She lifted her hand away maybe too quickly, got up, and headed toward the stairs. Her footsteps drowned out the pounding in her chest.


End file.
